


Early in the morning (before the light hits)

by silvervelour



Series: Each hour of the day [1]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: F/F, First Meeting, interior designer jan, jackie is an estate agent with milf energy, strap ons!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27407008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvervelour/pseuds/silvervelour
Summary: Over managing finance and hazelnut lattes, Jan begins to see Jackie in a different light.To start with, she’s a friend, and then she’s so much more.They work well alone but together, it’s seamless. Jackie helps, with all of her experience and knowledge, but she never once makes Jan feel undermined. She offers Jan the reins which she says Jan is more than capable of holding, and only takes them back when she sees fit. Jackie also compliments each shade of lilac that Jan favours when it comes to decorating bedrooms, dressing rooms, and Jan - be it subconsciously or not - begins matching her outfits to them.
Relationships: Jackie Cox/Jan Sport
Series: Each hour of the day [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002294
Comments: 11
Kudos: 41





	Early in the morning (before the light hits)

**Author's Note:**

> hi pals gals and gays!! this is a prequel to the milf Jackie one shot I posted not so long ago, where you get to see them meet and learn how their relationship forms!! im super super proud of this one and had a great time writing it. im a uk gal and the smut for this was written at 5am when I stayed awake to watch the us election so I think that tells you all you need to know :)
> 
> let me know your thoughts lovelies!!

At twenty-five, Jan leaves her interior design company. 

And then, she starts working for herself. 

She makes the jump with the encouragement from her friends Nicky and Rosé. They tell her that she’s good, that she’s _more_ than good, and Jan can do nothing apart from agree with them because she knows that they’re right. She’d graduated first in her class in college and had made the honour roll by the second semester of her junior year, and had been hired at _Goode’s Interiors_ by the following summer. They had nurtured her talent and kickstarted her drive, but Jan’s always had a work ethic that would rival anybody’s and it’s why she wants bigger, better, more; by herself. 

Because while Jan adores people, and loves the constant conversations that come with the very nature of her job, she also loves and thrives off of creative control. She finds power in picking out paint swatches that nobody will dispute, and splurging a little extra cash on an item of furniture because she knows in the long run, it’ll up the value of the house. Jan wants nothing more than to transform each shell of plasterboard and brick into homes fit for generations, and she knows that she can because she has the experience, the tenacity.

And she doesn’t think that having impeccable taste hurts, either. 

Jan proves it to herself as well as everyone around her when she completes her first solo project. It sells through the estate agency for over the estimated value, and Jan celebrates at a champagne brunch with Nicky and Rosé before she books her second job while nursing an evening hangover. She responds to the email, sprawled across the couch of her Hell’s Kitchen apartment, her persian cat curled up at her feet. She’s named Lavender - she’s as white and fluffy as the blanket that Jan’s buried herself beneath - and when Jan hits send, she pads up the length of the couch to make herself comfortable on Jan’s chest. Jan nuzzles her nose into her fur, and then lets out a sigh as her eyes begin to slip closed. 

She falls asleep there. On the couch, with Lavender puring against her shoulder. Her little grumpy face is the last thing that Jan remembers before she drifts off and the first thing that she sees when she wakes up hours later. There’s a crick in her spine and an ache in her neck but she brushes it off quickly, makes her way towards her bedroom. It’s still dark outside, and Lavender follows her like a shadow in the dim light of the hallway, before perching herself happily on the end of Jan’s bed. They both fall asleep knowing that a seven o’clock wakeup is looming but Jan is content to let the dark pull her under. 

When Jan wakes up again, it’s light out. 

She showers, dresses, feeds herself and Lavender breakfast. Lavender thanks her with a grateful meow and a brush of her tail against Jan’s ankles, and is then quiet as she works her way through her bowl of kibble. Jan eats her own avocado toast, and brushes whatever crumbs she gets on her lilac midi dress into the sink. Her cream court heels clack against the floorboards of the kitchen as she walks from one end to the other, and then then she picks up her matching jacket that she’d left folded across the back of a chair. She shrugs it on, fastens it at the front, and then untucks her freshly blowdried hair from the collar of it. 

Jan is out of the door with a final kiss to Lavender’s head. 

She’s hell bent on being early for her first view of the upstate house, even if it’s had her out of bed an hour or two before she would have preferred. The journey isn’t far by cab and she spends the time that it takes to get there staring out of the back seat window, observing passers by and smiling gleefully at each dog on a leash, every child holding their mothers hand. She tips the driver with a twenty when they pull up in the driveway - because she can, now - and offers a cheery _thank you_ before the door shuts behind her. 

Jan walks up to the front porch with an excited nervousness. 

She’s not new to this by any means, but she is relatively accustomed to doing it by herself. Jan is still attempting to shake the memories of a team of people who she would have to answer to, regulations which were more like confinements. Now that she’s without them, it makes the wait after she rings the doorbell tortuous. A second passes, and then two, and then an eventual ten before she’s able to make out a silhouette behind the frosted glass. Jan sees burgundy and dark hair and eyes that match; before they’ve even met. 

Her hand clutches tighter at her purse. It’s tucked beneath one of her arms, propped on the shelf of her hip. It’s a lilac leather that matches the shade of her dress, and compliments the cream of her jacket and shoes. It isn’t lost on Jan that arguably, she dresses _too well_ for her job, but the smile that she receives from the woman when the door swings open on its hinges is just maybe, worth it. She stands there, her cheeks puckered into a grin, and Jan has to catch herself when her calves begin to wobble in her heels. Clearing her throat, Jan chastises herself, and is quick to shake her head in apology. 

“Hi!-”. Jan exclaims. 

She offers out a hand to the woman.

“-I’m Jan! I’m working interior”. She clarifies. 

And Jan’s hand had been cold from the air of the early spring morning, but suddenly it’s warm. Her palm is met with the touch of delicate fingers that are strong yet careful, and red painted nails are stark against Jan’s classic french manicure. The handshake is firm, professional, though the smile that the woman accompanies it with is far from it. It’s welcoming, kind - if a little mischievous - and Jan finds herself holding on for a second longer than she usually would. The woman says nothing with her words that she isn’t able to say with a simple crook of her eyebrow and then licks across her lips before nodding, opening the door to allow Jan inside the foyer. 

“Jan… Mantione? Right?”. 

“Oh-”. Jan chuckles. 

“-Just Jan is fine, don’t worry”. She reassures. 

The door closes behind them, and it’s then that Jan gives her first cursory look around the entrance area. The wallpaper is clearly outdated in a way that’s more tattered than vintage chic, and she thinks that the whole place could do with a coat of paint - or five. She imagines neutrals taking the places of lime greens and beech replacing the oak flooring, and is already piecing together each room before she’s even made it to the kitchen. The woman is still at her side as she guides her through to the living room and as when Jan sets her purse down onto the coffee table, she does so with a snort. 

“I’m so sorry-”. Jan starts. 

“-I don’t think I caught your name?”. 

She braces her bottom lip between her teeth, keeps her eyes wide and innocent. She’s met with a laugh that’s open, one that echoes in the alcove of the archway above them. The woman perches herself on the arm of the couch that Jan desperately wants to get rid of and then looks up at her from behind her gold, wire rimmed glasses. Her grey and brown streaked hair hangs in curls around her face, and hits the collar of her white shirt that she has opened to the top of her cleavage, tucked into a pair of tailored burgundy trousers. She pushes the glasses up the bridge of her nose, her elbows resting on her knees, and then beams. 

“Jackie”. She tells Jan. 

_Oh_. 

She’s Jackie, Jan realises. Jackie - _Jacqueline_ \- Cox from the estate agency. Owner of the estate agency. Her stance is powerfully calm and Jan swallows, gulps. She nods her head with a smile, and wonders if it would be too much to reach out and shake Jackie’s hand once more. Jackie stands from the couch as quickly as she’d sat in the first place once she’s sure Jan has sufficiently taken in the room and then leads them through to the kitchen, followed by the dining area. There’s work to be done and cabinets to be replaced and they begin to discuss it when they reach the upstairs floor of the house. 

It’s less deteriorated than the ground floor - the bedrooms at least feel welcoming - and they begin discussing costs and budgets once they’ve given the bathroom a once over. Jan tells Jackie that she’s going to need time to analyze and design, and Jackie sets out approximate spending limits for each room and feature so that Jan is able to plan accordingly. Jan jots each figure down in a pink, leather bound notebook that she keeps in her purse and Jackie compliments the fountain pen that matches it. She calls it _cute, fitting_ , and Jan definitely blushes through the bronzer that she has dusting her cheeks. 

“What?-”. Jackie smirks. 

“-It’s true! It matches your whole… vibe”. 

Instead of asking what Jackie means, Jan takes it as the teasing compliment that she knows it is. Jackie’s smirk doesn’t vanish until Jan rolls her eyes, and when they reach the final topic of discussion - how much Jackie plans to sell for - Jan doesn’t hide her surprise. Because while being the estate agent is Jackie’s job, Jan also knows that together, they could be _so good_. The number that Jackie offers is a tragic underestimation, and Jan shakes her head, wiggles her pen that’s still in her hand. She taps it against the page of her book then, references figures and budgets and margins. 

“Oh, come on-”. Jan scoffs. 

“-We can do better than _that_ ”. She emphasises. 

But Jackie settles for just shrugging, and arches her eyebrow in a challenge. 

“I guess we’ll just have to wait for you to work your magic”. 

*****

Jackie doesn’t expect to form a friendship with Jan

But that’s exactly what happens. 

It’s formed on the foundations of colour palettes and profits, adjustments and accommodations, but becomes solidified when Jackie realises that outside of the conversations about work, she also enjoys Jan’s company. She’s funny, witty as well as being creative, and it’s not lost on Jackie that she’s _gorgeous_ , either. She turns up to work in a different colour coordinated outfit everyday, her hair always immaculately styled. Jan challenges Jackie’s ideas of what an interior designer - a business woman - should be, and is a breath of fresh air compared to other coworkers that Jackie experiences at properties across the state. 

She tells Jackie about how she’d taken a class on the significance of sourcing wood while visiting California one summer, but then tacks a mention of her cat Lavender on the end of it. Jackie learns that she’s coming up to being three, and that Jan had gotten her when she’d first started leasing her own apartment. She shows Jackie pictures of her, bright on the screen of her phone. There are some of Lavender curled up on what Jackie assumes is Jan’s living room couch, her fur as white as the scatter cushions, and others of her sitting with her tiny grouchy face on the kitchen countertop. Jackie’s favourite just happens to be one that Jan’s taken of the both of them, Lavender sat on her chest and head nuzzled against a smiling Jan’s cheek. 

More often than not, their conversations wander. It’s why Jackie isn’t surprised that while mulling over wallpaper options and drinking mugs of coffee, Jan mentions her family home in Jersey. She tells Jackie all about the table they’d had in their main dining room when she was growing up that’s similar to the one they’re congregated around, and launches into a story of her dad tripping over one of the ornate legs after a few too many beers on new years. Jackie laughs at each point - honestly, openly - before they’re forced to turn their attention back to the squares of wallpaper that are still undecided. 

“This one would be really nice for the closet feature wall”. Jan recommends. 

Jackie looks from the price per roll to the budgets she has written down in her notebook. 

“It’s too expensive-”. She sighs. 

“-The profit margins would be too small”.

At the news, Jan looks saddened, and Jackie wishes that she hadn’t said anything. She almost backtracks, nearly lies and tells Jan that she’d miscalculated the numbers even if she knows Jan would never believe her. Jackie purses her lips as Jan frowns, and then pouts behind the edge of her coffee mug. She bows her head, tucks her chin to her chest, and realises that she _can’t_ disappoint Jan. It feels inherently wrong, as if Jan should be granted every wish that she wants. Jackie longs for a magic wand or three wishes from a genie in a bottle to make it happen, but knows that she’s going to have to find solutions elsewhere. 

“But-”. Jan’s projects her bottom lip.

“-It’s sparkly, Jackie!”. 

Her eyes are downtrodden, lacking the sparkle that’s usually present. Jackie has gotten used to seeing it at all hours of the day over the past couple of weeks, be it before the sunrise or when the dregs of the spring days roll around. Jan tackles life with the same verve that she does her job and Jackie might have over a decade on her, but it’s something that she’s still learning to balance. Jan has seemingly mastered it effortlessly even if Jackie’s more than aware that it’s not the reality of things, and it’s why she nods her head in understanding before insisting that they call it a day. 

Jan doesn’t disagree, but then Jackie comes back the following day having found the same wallpaper for half of the price. 

And Jan doesn’t stop smiling triumphantly for the rest of the day. 

Jackie - thinks that it’s worth it. 

*****

They’ve been working together for a month. 

And Jackie has quickly realised that she has an innate inability to say no to Jan in any way. 

Or to make her feel anything that isn’t _good_. 

She brings Jan coffees when she’s able to, and they take their lunch breaks together when their schedules align. They take it in turns to buy each other brunch from the café down the street and Jackie quickly learns that Jan’s love languages could never be anything apart from _acts of service_ and _quality time_. Jackie offers her both as she needs them and Jan, in return, makes Jackie’s job easy. She meets each deadline, designs each room immaculately, and is a delight even on her worst days; they come few and far between but they still happen and they still hurt Jackie. 

Jackie doesn’t acknowledge what it means - not yet, it feels too soon - but she does let herself fall into it, because catching herself feels futile. She talks to her best friend Chelsea, late on a Saturday over a bottle of wine. It’s her only day free from work that week and she uses it to talk about what she’s meant to avoid. Work and Jan and work and Jan. Chelsea sits with her on her couch as they talk about the upstate house, and then they move to the balcony when the air becomes a little too stuffy. The crisp April evening is sobering and Chelsea easily and happily dismantles Jackie’s worries about being too old, too boring. 

“Babe, I’m ‘gonna level with you-”. Chelsea starts. 

She drains her glass, sets it onto the railing of the balcony. 

“-I know for a fact you don’t think you’re old. Or boring. You’re overthinking things just ‘cause this pretty little twenty-something has you feeling some type of way. Let it happen, hm? Be the fuckin’ Jackie we both know you are and get your damn shit together”. 

Instead of replying, Jackie just nods. 

Because Chelsea, beyond her wine loosened tongue, is right. Jackie is aging finer than the red in her glass, more gracefully than any of the unopened bottles still sat on her shelf. It takes Chelsea reminding her for Jackie to shake her worries but when she walks back into the upstate house the next day, her head admittedly a little foggy from the pinot noir induced hangover, it’s with a confidence that isn’t going to be shaken. She opens the door with a grin and a cheery _hello_ , expecting Jan to be sitting in her usual spot at the dining table. 

And she is, but she also isn’t.

Physically, Jan is in a position that Jackie’s seen her take most days for the past month. She’s perched on an old oak chair, floating in a sea of swatches and paperwork, giving orders to the decorators when needs be. Two takeout coffee cups sit on coasters in front of her and she’s clothed in her usual ensemble of a skirt and blazer, heels that make her taller, but that’s as far as the similarities go. Jackie takes a tentative step towards her and is careful not to startle her when she picks up the cup that’s free from the distinctive lipstick print. 

Because the very essence that is _Jan_ isn’t anywhere to be seen. 

She doesn’t look up at Jackie. Her gaze is concentrated on a palette of oranges, a frown prominent on her forehead. The line of her lips forms a tightrope and Jackie watches it wobble when Jan treads across it to smile. She offers Jackie a miniscule wave and it’s hopeful, but it isn’t the greeting that Jackie has become accustomed to. Jan more often than not welcomes her with a screech of her name - _Jackie! It’s so good to see you!_ \- and hands Jackie her coffee before she’s even had the chance to set her bag down. It’s become a routine of sorts, but this time Jan breaks it. 

So Jackie gives her the space that she knows she needs. 

It lasts for most of the day, with Jan being quieter than Jackie’s ever seen her. She doesn’t push it nor does she ask, because if Jan is having her version of _a bad day at the office_ then Jackie knows that it’s for good reason. They eat lunch separately - Jan stays at the table while Jan takes the couch - and they only interact briefly when Jan thanks Jackie for extending the budget for the kitchen. Jackie simply smiles, nods her head, and tells her it was no problem because it wasn’t, really. It had been obvious that the amount she’d set aside wouldn’t cover what Jan had needed so she’d made it work. 

With compromise. 

The team of decorators and removal crew leave some time before seven in the evening. Jackie leaves with them, and heads for the same cafè that she frequents down the street before heading back to the house, back to Jan. she’s still in the same position, hunched over a stack of options for couches, and is flicking through them noncommittally when Jackie approaches. Jackie keeps her voice soft when she first raises it but Jan is still visibly a little startled, and it makes Jackie’s throat swell. 

“Hey, Jan?-”. She attempts. 

“-Are you feeling ok, honey?”. 

Jan looks up to her, eyes tired and smile lazy. 

She nods her head as if on instinct, and when Jackie asks if it’s ok if she sits with her, she merely hums in agreement. Her eyes are still laser focused on couch choices, but Jackie knows that she isn’t paying enough attention to them to make a decision, and that she’s itching to say something. It’s evident in the way she looks back and forth between Jackie and the box that Jackie sets down onto the table from the café; it’s her peace offering to Jan and she’s praying that she takes it. 

When Jan does, both hands reaching out with a soft smile, Jackie lets herself relax. She slumps against the back of the chair even though it’s uncomfortable, and gauges Jan’s reaction as she opens the box. Jackie had opted for the most Jan cupcake she could find, one that’s made of red velvet, covered in pink icing and sprinkles that match. Jan eyes it like it’s the source of all things good and looks back to Jackie apologetically. Her expression is less stoic, and is instead replaced with a serenity that’s been missing all day. Jackie lets it wash over her like a shallow tide and then braces herself for the tsunami. 

“I’m sorry about earlier-”. Jan rushes out. 

“-Just one of those days, y’know?”. 

And Jackie does know. 

So she settles for nodding her head, and when Jan takes a swipe out the icing with her thumb, Jackie rests a hand on her shoulder. 

“Sometimes-”. Jackie drops her voice. 

Jan blinks up at her, icing catching on her cupid's bow. 

“-Even the sun itself has to hide behind the clouds”. 

They don’t talk after that, but the silence is calm. Jan finishes off her cupcake once she’s offered Jackie a bite, and then thanks her with a grin that makes Jackie feel at ease. They pack up the table together - Jan takes the catalogues, Jackie takes the budgeting sheets - and when they go their separate ways after locking the door behind them, Jackie is surprised to have Jan pull her into an embrace. It’s gentle yet tight, and doesn’t last for long, but Jan pulls away to place a kiss to Jackie’s cheek. It lingers, is warm, and a print of Jan’s signature pink is left behind. 

“Get home safe”. Jan breathes. 

And Jackie barely manages a _you too_ before Jan jumps into the passenger seat of a cab. 

*****

Over managing finance and hazelnut lattes, Jan begins to see Jackie in a different light. 

To start with, she’s a friend, and then she’s so much more. 

They work well alone but together, it’s seamless. Jackie helps, with all of her experience and knowledge, but she never once makes Jan feel undermined. She offers Jan the reins which she says Jan is more than capable of holding, and only takes them back when she sees fit. Jackie also compliments each shade of lilac that Jan favours when it comes to decorating bedrooms, dressing rooms, and Jan - be it subconsciously or not - begins matching her outfits to them. 

It takes until the one day where Jan doesn’t dress up for Jackie to call her out on it. 

They’re a pair of hands short on the decorating team, and are hurtling towards a deadline for when the living room needs to be completed for evaluation. Jackie calls her fretting about it before Jan has even risen from bed that morning and Jan doesn’t think twice about ignoring the dress that she’d laid out the night prior. Instead, she opts for worn in dungarees, old sneakers in lieu of her usual heels. She keeps her makeup light and scrapes her hair back into a messy bun at the nape of her neck, before making her way to the upstate house as soon as she’s fed both herself and Lavender breakfast. 

When she gets there, Jackie is pacing back and forth the hallway, her heels burning holes into the freshly cemented tiles. She greets Jan firstly with a confused smile and then a brisk hug, and briefs her on what’s gone on in the mere hour that Jan hasn’t been there. Jan learns of the further two no-shows as well as the one that Jan had already known about, and it explains the smear of teal paint on Jackie’s white shirt, how she looks a little more dishevelled than she would on any other day. She has her sleeves pushed up to her elbows, her hair in a loose ponytail, her eyes look just a little duller. 

“Jan-”. She sighs. 

“-I’m _so_ glad you’re here”. 

The relief in her voice is prominent, and Jan can do nothing apart from reassure her. 

“Hey, we’re ‘gonna get this done, ok?-”. She reaches out to hold both of Jackie’s hands, one of which prints teal onto Jan’s fingertips. 

“-We’ve got all day, it’s doable”. 

At Jan’s words, Jackie visibly becomes less tense. Her shoulders drop and her jaw slackens, and she even squeezes back at Jan’s hands. She stops shuffling her feet against the floor then, and swoops her eyes across Jan’s frame. They pause on the badges that Jan has pinned on the front pocket of her dungarees that she’s had since the beginning of college, and then she chuckles, low in her throat. She traces a finger across one that says _your silence will not protect you_ when she lets go of Jan’s hands, and then takes a step backwards to admire the one that says _astrology princess_ , as well as another that’s an enamel lesbian flag. 

Jackie smirks at the sight of them, but says nothing as she retrieves a cup of coffee from the cabinet next to her, and passes it off to Jan. Jan sips at it slowly, assuming it’s cooled down enough for her to drink, and then hums in approval at the taste of cinnamon and clove and spice. She smiles at Jackie from behind the rim of it, and Jackie continues to observe her as they walk through to the living room where furniture is being arranged around rugs that are still unrolled and walls that are still being painted; it’s Jan’s worst nightmare come to life. 

“Oh, _no_ ”. Jan grimaces. 

“Yes-”. Jackie snorts.

“-But what did you say? We’re ‘gonna get this done, right?”. 

*****

With a day of work, they do. 

A nightmare becomes a dream with the help of a dozen hands, and by the time that the room clears out, the day ends as it begins. 

With just herself and Jackie. 

Jan makes herself comfortable on the window seat - she’s not about to get any paint on the new suede couches - and sips at what must easily be her sixth or seventh coffee of the day. Jackie has had them on tap for her, knowing the caffeine would give her the boost that she’s needed, and there’s a small stack of used takeaway cups that have been discarded on the freshly polished table in the centre of the room. Jan makes a mental note to take them with her when she leaves, to put them in the trash, and then voices it to Jackie when she strolls back into the room. 

“I have drank _far_ too much of this today”. She emphasises. 

Jackie laughs as she pads across the floor, feet cushioned by the cream shag rug.

“What is that, your thirty-fifth?”. Jackie teases

Much like Jan, she looks like she’s put the work in. Her ponytail is looser than it was before noon, with curls now framing her face and waves falling to between her shoulder blades. Her shirt is rumpled, and has come untucked from her tailored pants which she’s cuffed at the ankles. She’s also kicked off her heels in favour of walking around barefoot, and Jan had commented over hurried lunch that Jackie still being taller than her even without her heels on was in fact, a crime. Jackie had cackled and Jan had blushed, but then lunch had been over and Jan had been too focused on painting the walls evenly to think about it further. 

Once she’s crossed the room, eyes taking in the finished product, Jackie sits next to her. She’s all soft smiles and happy hums, and sings quiet melodies that make Jan feel soothed. Residual giggles still mingle in the air and then when they quieten, Jackie is looking at her. She’s taking Jan in, one aspect at a time, her eyes soft and smile just as tender. Jackie is still sipping at her own takeout cup - green tea instead of coffee - and Jan revels at the sight of her red painted nails wrapped around it. 

“What?”. Jan asks. 

Jackie shrugs, smirks, then gestures to Jan’s dungarees.

“Didn’t want to paint in one of your cute purple dresses?”. 

Behind her cup, Jan rolls her eyes, but she finds herself grinning nonetheless. 

“We can’t all just start painting in our work clothes, gorg”. 

Jackie laughs, as raucous as Jan’s ever heard it, and within the next half an hour they’re giving the room a final satisfied once over before locking up. Jan closes the front door behind them, and Jackie double, triple checks the locks as she always does. They’re illuminated by the porch light and then the street lights when they make it to the driveway, and then come to a halt next to Jackie’s car. The hood of it is as red as Jackie’s nails even in the low light, and with a whisper of her name, everything shifts. 

“ _Jackie_ ”. 

She’s crowded in. The red of Jackie’s nails digging softly into the skin of her waist where her dungarees leave her exposed, and the cool metal of Jackie’s car pressing against her spine through the denim. Jackie’s breath is hot against her cheek and then the corner of her mouth, and it only takes a short nod from Jan to have Jackie kissing her. It’s short and sweet, unexpected yet predictable. Jan feels safe as she makes a small noise of affirmation against Jackie’s lips and even safer when she pulls away to the sound of sunny giggles. 

Jackie drives her home that night. 

She drops Jan off outside of her apartment, and kisses her once more before lacing their fingers together. 

“I’ll text you?”. Jackie beams. 

Jan closes the passenger side door with a snort, and then calls through Jackie’s wound down window. 

“After that kiss you fuckin’ better, Jacqueline”.

*****

Slowly, things evolve. 

Whatever time Jackie had spent in her office - which granted, was very little - she now spends with Jan. She becomes more involved with the development of the house than she has with any other home before, and it isn’t lost on Jan. Jackie still compliments each of her colour choices, but now she also gives her input. Jan finds out that Jackie’s favourite room is the kitchen, for it’s classic warmth, and it’s why when she heads to the DIY supply store in preparation for beginning the basement, she asks Jackie to go with her. 

Naturally, Jackie agrees. 

Jan is planning on converting the space into a quiet, relaxing haven. One that is a stark contrast to the epicentre of the bustling city that’s a handful of miles away. She’s imagining soft amber lighting, cherry wood furniture, as well accents of green in the form of cacti, succulents dotted around the room. It’s a vision that she knows Jackie will approve of and when she first shows Jackie the preparatory mood board, she does so with a grin. The awe on Jackie’s face tells her all that she needs to know, and it fills Jan with excitement at the prospect of getting to watch Jackie’s reaction when each aspect of the room comes together. 

“So, what _exactly_ are we looking for today?”. Jackie questions. 

They’re walking into the DIY store, Jan pushing a blue shopping cart. 

For the occasion, they’ve both chosen to dress down, and Jan would be lying if she said getting to see _everyday_ Jackie instead of _estate agent_ Jackie during a work day didn’t make her breath hitch in her throat. She’s wearing a pair of jeans that are loose around her hips, and there’s a rip that goes from the middle of one thigh down to just below her knee. She’s paired them with a simple white t-shirt, one that she’s french tucked, and old black boots that are covered in flecks of white paint. Jan has dressed similarly basic; grey yoga pants, a white crop top and chunky, pink soled sneakers. 

“We-” Jan sings. 

“-Are on the hunt for the most wonderful shade of orange you ever did see”. She winks. 

Jan takes them on a detour around the store, just to look at shelving units before she guides them towards the paint department. There are rows upon rows of swatches and Jackie stares at them as if colour has lost all meaning. Jan laughs, and then shakes her head. She knows that the variations are overwhelming at best and she takes the time explaining to Jackie that she needs something warm but not red based, bright but not shocking. Jackie nods along deftly, and then points to a line of yellows. 

“Why not something like a mustard?”. She frowns. 

“Continuity”. Jan answers as if it’s simple. 

She has a habit of forgetting that colours aren’t Jackie’s area of expertise. 

“Meaning?”. Jackie snorts. 

Jan takes a step closer to her - their hips bump, hands brush - and then gestures to a block of reds.

“So-”. Jan starts. 

“-We’ve got teal in the living room and cream in the kitchen, and then a navy dining room. They all flow, right? It’s the same with the bedrooms. Lilac for the master, pale grey for a couple of the guest rooms. It has to be cohesive, so we can’t just go from a calm white hallway into say, a crazy bright pink basement, no matter how much I’d like to”. She laughs. 

At that, Jackie hums. 

“I bet you’d love that”. She muses. 

Giggling, Jan tosses her hair over her shoulder. 

“One day-”. She conspires. 

“-I'm gonna’ get to make the Barbie house of my dreams and nobody’s gonna’ stop me”. 

It’s something that she thinks about, sometimes. A college professor had once told her that her colour palettes and ideals were juvenile, but it’s been nothing apart from an advantage to Jan in her professional career. She’s favoured for her more lively touch and lack of conservatism, and her clients trust her more than most because of it. Jan maintains that pinks are fun and purples are enchanting, and that nothing is more childish than the people who refuse to make their home somewhere merry. 

She explains it to Jackie as they round the corner, and Jackie - as always - is nothing if not understanding and supportive. Jan rests her elbows on the handlebar of the cart and Jackie trails her fingertips across Jan’s shoulders as she talks. It has goosebumps rising on Jan’s arms, and they travel down each notch of her spine. Jackie follows them like steps with her index finger, and then settles her palm at the base. Jan arches into it as if on reflex, and she has to turn her gaze away from her when Jackie crooks a teasing, inquisitive eyebrow. 

_Paint hunting_ , Jan reminds herself. 

They’re _just_ paint hunting. 

Jackie drops her eyebrow, but doesn’t move her hand. She slips her fingertips beneath the hem of Jan’s shirt and thank god, Jan thinks, that they’re alone in the aisle. A whimper collects in the back of her throat, and slithers its way to the tip of her tongue. Jackie swallows it with a chaste kiss and pulls away with a chuckle when they’re interrupted by footsteps. Jan finds herself pouting unwittingly but Jackie recovers quickly, and moves to sweetly tuck a strand of Jan’s hair behind her ear. 

“Cute-”. Jackie murmurs. 

And then she switches the subject as quickly as blue becomes green when mixed with yellow. 

“-Any of these catching your eye?”. 

_You_ , Jan wants to say, but it feels rude to say in front of the wall of swatches that she’s barely been paying attention to. All of the reds are beginning to blur into one, and Jan isn’t confident that she’d be able to decipher yellow from black with the distraction of Jackie’s presence. The oranges that she’s seeking are indicative of the desire that’s been growing between them for weeks, ever since their first kiss against the hood of Jackie’s car, and Jan doesn’t think it’s going to take much longer for it to become white hot. 

Because Jackie is still right next to her, and no matter how much she tries to focus, Jan’s drawn back to Jackie’s breath against her temple, her fingers that nimbly flick through a swatch booklet. Her nails are painted the same dark red as they always are, and the harsh strip lights of the store are reflected in them. Jan’s heart is beating just as crimson in her chest and it’s only making it harder to choose between _vermilion sands_ and _egyptian sun_ and _candied rouge_ and - 

\- Jackie moves to stand behind her. 

Her hands settle on her waist, and then drift down towards her hips. She props her chin on Jan’s shoulder, and Jan is able to feel each movement of her jaw as she smiles, grins against Jan’s cheek. They’re alone in the aisle once more and Jan is grateful for the quiet. She knows that Jackie wouldn’t be as forthcoming if they weren’t and Jan grins right back at her, despite the tug in her gut. Jackie is subtly pulling Jan’s hips back against her own and Jan has to fight the whimper that dares to boil over from her lips. 

“I-”. Jan stutters. 

“-I really like this shade”. 

As to whether she’s pointing to _vermilion sands_ or _egyptian sun_ , Jan doesn’t know. 

Though Jackie seems to run with it, through fields of soft, rusted orange. 

She hums against the shell of Jan’s ear, and the molten lava of her touch melts itself through the fabric of Jan’s yoga pants, to her skin that’s burning with need. Jan leans into it - how could she not, she thinks - and tilts her head backwards so that it rests against Jackie’s collarbones. Jackie is chuckling low in her ear and she keeps one of her hands on Jan’s hip as the other points towards the swatch that Jan had gestured to. It’s the colour of amber, of warm lighting and the flecks of citrine in Jackie’s eyes. 

“My bedroom’s painted a pretty similar colour-”. Jackie states simply. 

And Jan knows that it isn’t offhanded. 

“-I’ll show you some time”. 

Jan lets the words sit in the air. 

And then exhales a shuddering breath. 

“You don’t have to seduce me with paint colours”. Jan turns in Jackie’s arms. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”. 

Mock offended, Jackie gasps. She then smirks, widely, and loops her arms loosely back around Jan’s waist. Because Jackie isn’t stupid, but she does like to tease, and Jan can see it plainly on her face. Her eyes are bright and her lips are curling, and she’s looking down at Jan with a want that’s wholly reciprocated. Jan presses her thighs together and digs her teeth into her bottom lip, before releasing it to smile bashfully. She giggles, then, and pulls Jackie in by a hand on the back of her neck so that she’s able to whisper against her jaw. 

“If you want me in your bed, just say the word”. 

*****

Jan sees the musky tangerine of Jackie’s bedroom walls. 

And then the crisp white of her bedsheets as she falls back into them. 

Outside it’s still light, bright in a way that Jan hadn’t pictured when she had imagined tumbling into bed with Jackie for the first time. They’re illuminated a dazzling peach - a combination of the walls surrounding them as well as the ever red trees outside - and Jan feels shockingly seen by Jackie’s blaring gaze. Her eyes are dark yet sunny, while also being hooded and wanting, and Jan blinks slowly in an acknowledgment back at her. Jackie lowers herself atop of her, the fabric of her jeans around her knees rough against the slither of exposed skin at Jan’s waist. Jan keens after her touch with a mewl that makes Jackie smirk, then sit back on her haunches. 

She runs her hands up and down Jan’s shins, wraps her hands around her ankles. Jan had kicked off her sneakers before she’d stepped foot into the bedroom and it means that Jackie’s able to press her fingertips against her ankles, and slips her socks delicately off of her feet. Jan buries her toes into the soft cotton of the sheets pooling beneath her and then Jackie smirks before trailing her hands back to Jan’s waist. When she gets there, she squeezes, and Jan bucks her hips with a sense of impatience. Jackie keeps smiling down at her, teasing and confident, and hooks her thumbs beneath the waistband of Jan’s yoga pants when she nods. 

“You want these off?”. Jackie asks. 

Jan whimpers, writhes. 

“ _Jackie-_ ”. Her head falls back against the mattress. 

“-Need you”. She pouts. 

Jackie pauses with Jan’s pants halfway down her legs, bottom lip nestled between her teeth.

“Need me to what, Jan?”. Jackie cocks her head. 

She works Jan’s yoga pants past her ankles, discards them on the floor next to the bed. Jan’s legs spread as if on their own accord, and Jackie eyes her with a lust that makes Jan’s heart clench and her pussy throb. She’s able to feel herself soaking through her panties, dampening the lilac lace, and Jackie crooks an eyebrow when Jan reaches out to her, pulling her closer by the belt loops of her jeans. Jackie falls freely into a position that allows her to straddle Jan’s thigh, but Jan wants her closer still. She untucks Jackie’s t-shirt from her jeans, glides her palm across the soft planes of Jackie’s stomach. Her muscles tighten under Jan’s caresses, and then Jan hooks her legs around Jackie’s waist. 

“Touch me”. Jan pleads.

Her voice is high, but Jackie’s touch drifts lower. 

“ _Here?_ ”. Jackie questions. 

Her fingers drum against Jan’s elbow. 

“ _Or here?_ ”.

She ghosts her hands across the swells of Jan’s breasts. 

“ _What about here?_ ”. 

Jan’s thighs clamp down around Jackie’s wrist. 

“There”. She tells her. 

And Jan thinks that Jackie is going to comply. 

Until she doesn’t. 

“No-”. Jackie shakes her head. 

She pulls away, Jan’s legs dropping from her waist. 

“-Not yet”. 

Jan groans, both out of frustration and pleasure. Jackie’s hand is still pressed against her pussy through her panties, and when she moves it it’s replaced by her denim clad hip. She grinds down subtly, mischief prominent on her face, and Jan is struck by how Jackie - intelligent, older, sexy Jackie - is looking at her as if she’s a goddess. Jackie mutters something about _pretty_ and _hot_ and Jan has to close her eyes to stop herself from choking on her ragged breathing. She clenches her thighs, whines, and then Jackie is chuckling against her jaw. 

She kisses along it, down to the spot of Jan’s neck that makes her back arch and her toes curl. Her lips peck and her tongue licks, but Jan loses her grip on reality when Jackie’s teeth graze against the skin there. Jackie hums against each cluster of freckles that she discovers, and then peels away Jan’s crop top with the same delicate urgency that she had her pants and her socks. It leaves Jan in only her panties - they’re soaked, see through - but Jackie makes quick work of getting rid of those too. Jan helps her by lifting her hips, and then spreads her legs even further when Jackie settles on her stomach between her thighs. 

“So wet for me”. Jackie comments. 

Her lips are on Jan’s hip bones, her inner thighs, her wetness. 

“Please”. Jan whimpers.

“You want it?”.

“ _Yes_!”. 

Jackie works Jan open, first with her tongue and then with her fingers. She licks into her with broad strokes of her tongue, and then laps across her clit as she pumps one, two, then three fingers inside of her. Jan drips around her knuckles, down to her wrist and the sheets. The noises that fill the room are obscene but they form a symphony with Jan’s moans, and Jackie’s own hums of pleasure that she pushes up inside of Jan. Jan clenches down around them, and then releases them when the buildup becomes too much. She comes hard and quick, with Jackie fucking her through it and the promise of _more more more_. 

“Oh m’god-”. Jan pants. 

“-Fuck, Jackie”. 

“Ok?”. Jackie checks. 

Her eyes search Jan’s, and then their hands intertwine. 

Jan pulls Jackie’s towards her lips, where she kisses her knuckles before taking Jackie’s fingers into her mouth. She tastes her own sweetness combined with the want still present in Jackie’s eyes, and makes a show out of flicking her tongue between her fingers, over the red gloss of Jackie’s painted nails. Jan lets her spit run down them, and then coaxes Jackie into a filthy kiss when she winds both of her hands - still wet - into Jan’s hair. She tugs gently, and spikes the slightest pain through Jan’s scalp before pulling away. Jan nods her head in response to Jackie’s earlier question; _yes_ she’s ok, _yes_ she wants more. 

And she’s not above asking for it. 

“Strap?”. She questions, brazen and brash. 

Jackie regards her for a moment, and then chuckles. She drapes herself back over Jan’s body, and each of Jan’s senses are overwhelmed by Jackie’s warmth, the supple softness of her skin compared to rough denim of her jeans. She’s still fully clothed and Jan wishes that she wasn’t, so she encourages Jackie to lift her arms, shed her white shirt. Much like Jan, she hadn’t been wearing a bra. Jan’s jaw grows slack at the sight of Jackie’s silver layered necklaces dipping between her breasts, her nipples that harden under Jan’s touches. Jan pads her fingers across them, and then down to the button that fastens Jackie’s jeans. 

She undoes it, skilfully. 

“Oh-”. Jackie smirks. 

Jan glides the zip down with a grin. 

“-That’s what you want?”. 

Eager, Jan nods her head. 

Jackie hums, but doesn’t make any attempt at moving until Jan’s huffs prompt her. She then rises from the bed, and kicks off her jeans at the foot of it. Her panties are plain black, lacey, and the vision in front of her is enough to make Jan even wetter. She begins tracing circles around her clit as Jackie watches her from across the room and performatively dips two, then three fingers inside of herself. Jan whimpers, as if she doesn’t already have Jackies’s undivided attention, and moans Jackie’s name like it’s the only word that she knows. Jackie briskly rummages through the bottom drawer of her dresser and Jan is unable to help the way that her eyes widen when Jackie strides back to the bed, strap on already fastened around her hips. 

“Good enough for you?”. Jackie taunts. 

And Jan can only moan. 

They maneuver easily, reposition until Jackie’s able to recline against the headboard with her legs bent. Jan straddles her thighs but faces away from her, and Jackie’s hands settle on her hips while Jan’s come to grip Jackie’s knees. Jackie presses her lips to Jan’s neck, and then works them down the ladder of her spine. She kisses at the juncture between her shoulder blades, and encourages Jan with tenderly dirty whispers to ride her, to make herself _feel good_. Jan whines in anticipation of how it’s going to feel to be stretched around Jackie’s dick, the blue silicone dragging against her walls. 

The thought has her grinding down against it, and Jackie laughs openly against the shell of her ear. 

“Come on-”. Jackie pinches at Jan’s hip. 

“-Up”. She directs. 

With Jackie’s help, Jan sinks down onto the dildo. She does so slowly, and with Jackie’s utterances of _good girl, that’s it_ echoing in her ears. She praises Jan for each moan that she lets out, every precautionary rise and fall, and matches Jan’s efforts by thrusting upwards. Jan is full, stretched, and is able to see as well as feel her wetness streaking down her thighs. Jackie’s nails begin to dig into her waist, her thighs, and Jan doesn’t think there’s a place that she somehow isn’t touching. She’s inside of her, surrounding her from all angles, and Jan wants to take all that Jackie will give her because it isn’t enough. 

Not quite. 

Jan quickens her pace, but Jackie joins her. She wraps an arm around Jan’s body, and just as Jan’s thighs begin to burn from the exertion, Jackie’s fingertips meet her clit. They don’t tease, and Jan is grateful for it. She’s so worked up that there are beads of sweat running down her back, into Jackie’s kisses, and the pressure against her clit sends her closer to the orgasm that she’s been chasing. Jan begins rocking her hips backwards and forwards in lieu of lifting them up, slamming them back down. Her back is arched, her head thrown back, and Jackie works her free hand into the strands of blonde that fall in waves around her shoulders. 

She tugs - _hard_ \- and it’s over for Jan. 

Her movements come to a halt, and all of the air in her lungs is exhaled in a moan that she sends towards the ceiling. Jackie’s grip tightens around her, and everything is warm, wet, euphoric. Jan is whimpering, sensitive, and her thighs clench down around Jackie’s waist when she comes. Jackie cups her pussy delicately, cautious of not turning pleasure into pain, and then releases her hold on Jan’s hair. The aftershocks run through Jan’s body like the rays of sun flicker around the still light room, and she lifts herself off of the dildo with a whimper that Jackie swallows when Jan turns her head. 

“Shh, it’s ok-”. Jackie soothes.

“-Take your time”. 

And with Jackie’s words of reassurance, Jan feels safe.

So she sits back, falls into Jackie’s lap, and lets the air return to her lungs. 

All the while Jackie whispers sweet nothings against each patch of skin that she’s able to reach.

*****

Jan stays the night. 

And then the following morning, Jackie drives the both of them to their final day working at the upstate home. 

It’s a little warmer outside now than it was at the beginning of spring, and it’s reflected in how the leaves on the trees that line the sidewalks are greener, blossoming with new buds. The days are getting longer and the nights just a fraction shorter, but Jan is content to bask in them with Jackie at her side. She sits confidently behind the wheel of the car and then takes Jan’s hand when they walk up the driveway, towards the door that’s been repainted a shade of off-white. It feels symbolic of a new beginning as they step through the threshold of the home, admiring their collective work with their fingers still intertwined. 

The house is already bustling - the hallway is crammed full of last minute surveyors, colleagues of Jackie’s that Jan vaguely knows - but the first person to walk towards them is Priyanka. Jan has met her a handful of times before, and recognises her as one of the higher ups at the agency Jackie owns. She’s favoured by Jackie for her humility and her drive, and Jan has taken a liking to her too. Each time that they’ve been in each other's company she’s been fun, cheery albeit sarcastic, and Jan appreciates the energy that she brings that differs to the usual _man-in-a-suit_ type that she’s become used to. 

“Oh!-”. Priyanka does a double take. 

“-You’re _both_ here”. 

She gives them a smile that’s knowing, and Jan feels light enough to laugh. 

“Indeed we are-”. Jan grins. 

Her hand is still gripping onto Jackie’s and her head is dizzy with excitement. 

“-Jackie drove us”. She confirms. 

Priyanka hums, and then smirks as she folds her arms across her chest. She crosses her legs at the ankles, and props her hip against the frame of the living room doorway. Her hair is brushed over one shoulder, ends of it hitting the lapel of her blazer, and Jan shakes her head with a chuckle. She stands as certain in her heels as Priyanka does, and arches an eyebrow in her direction. Priyanka snorts out a laugh that in turn has Jackie giggling and then they’re all smiling, paying little mind to those that awkwardly shuffle past them with a timid _excuse me_. 

“You have some kind of sleepover or something?”. Priyanka questions. 

She’s not done with her inquiry, and it has Jackie snickering into her takeout coffee cup that she holds in the other hand. 

“Mind your business-”. Jackie tells her, no malice behind her words. 

“-Don’t you have houses to be selling?”. 

“Oh yeah, but first, I’ve gotta’ tell you about last night's open house ‘cause Jackie, it was crazy…”. Priyanka trails off. 

At Priyanka’s rambling, Jan tunes out briefly. She’ll ask Jackie what Priyanka had been talking about over a late lunch or an early dinner, and together they’ll laugh about it, discuss Priyanka’s loveable unpredictability. But for now Jan allows herself to look around again, at the work that’s been all hers, Jackie’s, hers and Jackie’s. Compared to when they’d started working on the house, the interior is unrecognisable. Brightness has replaced what was once dull, and warmth has overtaken cold. It makes Jan smile, and she grips Jackie’s hand noticeably tighter as she squints through the window, to where a sign is being pitched in the front yard. 

The sign says _sold_. 

And Jan is full of pride. 

**Author's Note:**

> im also on Tumblr @jancox !


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